Move Along in The Stuff That's Not Interesting But Is The Most Interesting Stuff I'll Write

I'm not used to doing nothing. It feels stupid to have the job that I have. I think I finally get it. People would always tell me about how they need to have the right job... a career, if you will. I've lost touch with that concept considering the fact that I haven't had a normal job in nearly 8 years. Another thing is that I've become familiar with the concept of emotional work versus emotional labor. Emotional labor is the concept that your job requires you to project emotions that you don't really feel. Emotional work is when you are so invested in your job that it brings out emotions that are true.

Right now I'm working somewhere and it's completely mindless work. Endless repetition shouldn't feel as comfortable as it does mainly because I've always thought of myself as too complicated to really excel at mindless repetition. Then I realized that college is just mindless repetition... everything I do is mindless repetition.

For some reason, I'm watching the Glee Christmas episode and it makes me wish a few things... First, that it was Christmas. Second, that I actually celebrated Christmas. Third, that I was somewhere in which Christmas would actually be fun to celebrate. Don't be alarmed, I always go through Christmas nostalgia sometime during summer. It's usually because the unbearable heat makes me yearn for cold weather, which wouldn't matter in Southern California because it's always the same 70-something degrees. Ugh.

I also haven't had sex in a long, long time. Amazingly, I'm not too upset about. From time to time, I feel a little sad that my life isn't bursting with sex right now, but I know that times change. The truth is, I don't feel that sexual anymore. Even my infatuation with Ben has more to do with a power dynamic within an emerging social network than it has to do with my physical attraction to him (although he is totally my type).

When I was out on Monday, I walked in on my friend giving a blow-job in the bathroom of the bar we were at. There was no door on the stall (I found that to be grosser than the act of my friend giving a blow-job) and I went to the urinal, but there was no pause, no second-guessing, and (I found out later) even an orgasm in my presence. I'm usually on an even-keel when it comes to things like that, but I was so uninterested in what was happening that it really made me feel uncomfortable.

I think it's because there are no dating prospects in my life right now. Edgar is dating some chick he met through his comedy shows. Cesar began dating a guy he met while having an acid trip in Joshua Tree. Everyone is moving on and my "moving on" period is stuck on a time-delay. That's fine. It's a result of the choices I made and I'm not complaining, just making an observation.

I told my mother that I was thinking about marriage and she seemed genuinely pleased about it. The tension between us has slowly melted away, but I'm sure it's not going to be that far off. I just watched a Franco-Canadian film called "I Killed My Mother" and, although it wasn't that good, it reminded me of the kind of arguments in which I used to find myself with my own mother. The difference between myself and the character of the movie is simply one of age. I never really contradicted my mother until I became an adult. In fact, I was kind of the "dream teenager" in many respects. I didn't drink, I didn't do drugs. I observed my (unnecessarily early) bed time until I was 18. The only issues I had were emotional issues that stemmed from my sexuality... and most of those I dealt with on my own and a bad attitude was manifest. Which I suppose isn't that far off from the character in the movie, I suppose the difference is that I never cursed my mother out... even to this day, I don't really curse in front of my parents.

She asked me about my sex life. For whatever reason, I actually felt compelled to answer her. I told her there was nothing to see here and we should just move along.